


Flowers

by Ruenis



Series: DAI [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6189634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruenis/pseuds/Ruenis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan loses someone important to him, and leaves Skyhold temporarily to keep a promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers

Dragging his feet through the snow, Lorsen feels it turn to slush under his bare heels and toes. The feeling is almost familiar, almost similar to the dirt or mud that he tracks everywhere he walks – unintentionally, of course. He dislikes wearing proper shoes, and the small stains he leaves on Skyhold's carpets and floor are a tiny price to pay. He tries to remember to wrap his feet in more cloth to minimize the impact he leaves on the ancient fort.

Despite the abundance of snow and the chill in the air, Lorsen is only wearing the Grey Warden armour (save the boots, of course) that one of their mages had given him as thanks for sending them away; that young man had seemed especially afraid and relatively new to the Wardens. He had been fortunate enough not to participate in the blood magick rituals, as he had been posing as a rogue and hiding amongst some of the Warden warriors. His feet and ankles are bound with cloth, snow and slush sticking to his exposed heels and toes. He has a small, worn pack hanging on his shoulders and a dimly lit lantern at his belt.

The sun hangs low in the sky, bathing the snow in the orange-pink glow that makes up a sunset.

_".. you're hurting."_

_Jumping in fright, the elf turns around to meet Cole's clear, concerned eyes. "Cole, what have I said about sneaking up on people?"_

_"I knocked," the blond says innocently, "You didn't answer." He shifts his weight, fingers grasping at his frayed sleeve as he repeats, "You're hurting."_

_"I'm.. fine, Cole. Really," the Inquisitor insists._

Humming to himself, the white haired elf continues walking on the snow-covered river bank, gaze occasionally slipping to the frozen-over river. The ice, usually shiny with a blue-white colour is now dyed to reflect the setting sun; its shine is distracting. Lorsen appears at ease despite the shine in the corner of his eye, face blank and hard to read, grey eyes fixated directly in front of him.

_"I can help," Cole says softly. He stays quiet for a few moments, gazing at the elf, waiting for a response. When he does not get one, he calls, "Lorsen?"_

_Breathing out shakily, the elf's gaze slips to the wooden floor. "What is it you feel?"_

_"Breaking. Gasping. It hurts to breathe. Wake up in a cold sweat, the nightmares won't stop, it's so scary.." Cole whispers, voice frantic and shaky, "There's a hole in my heart. The pain won't go away. Praying, pleading, begging,_ please _make the pain go away.."_

_"That's.. enough, Cole," Lorsen whispers, a pained smile rising to his lips, "You've got it."_

Lorsen stops walking, the fresh memory resurfacing.

Just a few hours.

Just a few hours ago he had had that conversation with the spirit, and now he is here, traveling across a deserted mountain.

The slush starts to turn to water, and the water to vapor. Dull red flames lick at the grass, rendering it into a fine white ash that sticks to the burnt, scorched ground. He breathes in shakily, breathing pattern uneven and weak now. Tears start to blur his vision and he brings a hand to his eye in an attempt to rub them away.

" _.. you have a hole in your heart," Cole repeats, "I can help."_

_"I'm afraid it's irreparable," Lorsen murmurs, shaking his head. He stops packing for a few moments, sitting himself down on his bed beside his worn, leather pack. Grey flickers upward, and the elf gazes at the boy, watching as Cole's own gaze shifts to the bag._

_".. are you going away? Going away won't fix the hurt," Cole says, voice still quiet and gentle, full of his usual kindness when he is speaking to those in pain. He walks toward the other, stopping until they are about two feet apart, and sits down on the rug in front of the whitette. His slender fingers trace intricate patterns on the rug as he waits patiently for the Inquisitor's reply._

He starts to roughly rub both of his eyes – _oh, no, please don't cry_ – and tries to erase the tears. Lorsen goes motionless, hands over his face, small frame shaking with inaudible sobs. He breaths in softly – _calm down, it's alright_ –

 _See..? Just breathe in_..

.. and exhales.

 _And breathe out_..

The Inquisitor removes his hands, letting them fall to his side, grey eyes now tinged and rimmed with red, cheeks flushed, "I'm fine."

_Lorsen gazes at the boy, wondering how they got such a kind spirit to join their forces. He decides to speak. "I lost someone important to me," he says quietly, "I have a promise to keep to them. And to do that.."_

_"You need to go away?" Cole finishes, though it sounds more like a question and less like a statement._

_"Yes. I need to go away," Lorsen says. "But I'll return." They gaze at each other for a bit before the elf finally looks away, sighing to himself. "I'd appreciate it if you kept this a secret, Cole," he says, keeping his gaze firm on the small jar full of sky blue coloured dust._

_"You don't want me to tell anyone."_

_"I'd prefer if you wouldn't, yes. I.. I will tell everyone once I come back."_

“I'm fine,” Lorsen repeats to himself, starting to walk again. The ground behind him remains scorched, burnt, and covered with the white ash that used to be grass. His fingers start to pull at the small lantern hanging from his belt, and he presses his thumb and index to the glass pane. “Just.. just a bit farther and you can rest.”

His voice is soft, gentle, laced with affection..

"A.. a little bit farther, and.." His nails scrape against the glass, the tips of his fingers glowing a familiar, warm shade of red. "You can finally rest, _Elion_."

_Cole's clear eyes flicker to the jar, and he straightens himself upon realising what it is. "Irises. Forget-me-nots. Lobelias. Those were his favourites," he suddenly says, earning a wide eyed look from the Inquisitor. "He's going to love it."_

_"You.. you think so?" Lorsen asks, heart rising to his throat._

_He knows Cole is aware, on some level, of the nature of his relationship with the person they are talking about. The spirit had admitted as much nearly a month ago._

_"He'll love it almost as much as he loved you," Cole answers, watching as the whitette brings his hands to his face. He goes quiet as Lorsen starts to shake his head, soft, barely audible sobs escaping his lips._

_"I'm.. I'm sorry.. It's just.."_

_"It's alright to cry."_

Pulling his hand away from the lantern, the light at his fingertips extinguishes the moment his hand rests once more at his side. He breathes out again, and hot breath escapes his lips, breaking the chilled air before him.

_Thank the Creators I was given magick._

Surrounding him is nothing but snow and ice and slush, and a few pine trees that scatter along each side of the frozen-over river. The only other sounds to keep him company are the soft bird songs, the calling of owls, and the quiet jingle of his lantern. The birds are hidden from sight, perched up above in the pine's tall branches –

_If I had them with me, they probably would've complained about the silence._

He enjoys the quiet, though. It feels familiar, feels like home – _and it should. You're home. You're safe. Please go back._

Lorsen ignores the quiet voice in the back of his head, knowing that _yes_ , he should _probably_ go back to Skyhold, but he will not. He has a duty to attend to.

 _I have_ you _to attend to._

“ _Do you feel better?” Cole asks, gently rubbing the Inquisitor's back, soothing him. He had sat down beside the other when he started to cry._

_Lorsen shakes his head somewhat. “No.. but I don't suppose I will until fulfill my promise,” he admits, offering the blond a tiny, shaky smile. He wipes the remaining tears from his eyes, sighing as he gazes at the pretty blue jar. “I hope he likes this.”_

“ _Quiet breaths. Heart in my throat. Blue flowers crumpled in my hands, shaking, nervous, flustered. Cheeks painted red as a rose. 'I brought these for you.' Words shaky, too loud. Heart racing. Blurry vision. A warm pressure,” Cole murmurs, causing Lorsen to look at him in surprise. He continues, words still soft and careful and gentle, “A kiss. He_ kissed _me. 'These are very nice', he had said, 'Thank you. These are my favourite'. A flash of a smile, heat in my chest. 'Those are his favourites'.”_

“ _A-ah..” The Inquisitor feels his face heat up as Cole recites the familiar memory._

_That had been the very first time they acted on their feelings for one another._

_The first time they kissed._

“ _You.. you didn't have to do that, Cole.”_

“ _He's going to love it,” Cole repeats, hand still resting on Lorsen's back, rubbing small circles to soothe and calm him, “But he will always love you more. Your happiness meant everything to him.”_

“I have to keep going.”

* * *

 

Lorsen had made it to a small, abandoned ruin at the edge of a cliff just after the sun had gone down. The moonlight is shining on the ruin, illuminating the flower buds that lie asleep in a mixture of snow and mud. The ruins seem to have been a tiny cottage at one time, with pieces of stone lying scattered about, the wood probably having decayed years ago. A flower bed lies in the middle of it, wild and untamed with weeds and grasses peeking out between small batches of white Jacob's ladders, purple snowbells, and white-red orchids.

“They'll all be dyed blue, soon,” Lorsen murmurs to himself. He pulls his pack off of his shoulder and very gently sets it onto the snow, kneeling down to rummage through it. Moments later, a jar filled with blue dust rests in his hands. He gazes at the jar for a bit, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth; Irises, forget-me-nots, and lobelias.

 _His favourites_.

Standing up, the Inquisitor slowly walks toward the sleeping buds and opens the jar, sprinkling the dust over the flowers. They glow if only for a few seconds, gleaming sky blue under the moon. The glow fades quickly, leaving only slushy snow and dew covered buds. Lorsen kneels down once more, setting the jar down beside him, and clasps his hands, “Mala suledin nadas, emma lath.”

* * *

 

“Have you seen the Inquisitor?”

Cole and Varric both raise their heads at the question, gazing up at an upset Cassandra.

She is gazing at Cole, eyes narrowed, hand at her belt. As usual, she is dressed in her combat gear, minus her shield.

“.. no,” Cole says honestly, gazing back up at her. He is sitting across from the dwarf in a cushioned chair, legs pulled up to his chest. A small piece of parchment and ink sit in front of him along with a quill that has yet to be used.

“You share a room with him, correct?”

“Yes,” Cole nods, blue catching hazel.

“And you haven't seen him?”

“No.. –“

“The kid says no, Seeker,” Varric interrupts, a frown now on his features. Here they had been, sitting quietly while the blond dwarf worked on some paperwork – or perhaps he was writing for his books? Cole is not sure – when the Seeker came. “Have you tried asking anyone else?” the dwarf asks, not so subtly asking her to leave. They have been getting along recently, yes, but Varric could use this day to finish some urgent work. He has a quill in hand, and uses it to gesture to the castle's entrance, where she could find Sera, The Iron Bull, Blackwall, and all manner of people who might have seen the elf pass by.

Lorsen does, after all, enjoy taking walks despite how cold it is.

Cassandra sighs, fingers pulling at her sword's hilt, “I did. And they have all seen no sign of him. I thought perhaps since he and Cole share a room..” She trails off, knowing it will be easy to see where she was going.

“Right..” Varric mumbles, sighing to himself as well. His gaze flickers to Cole, who only looks between them with that innocent, clueless look on his face. “If we see him, we'll let him know you're looking,” he offers, watching as Cole tenses a bit at the comment.

The blackette nods once, hand relaxing and falling to her side. “Thank you,” she murmurs, gaze lingering for a moment before she walks away. Her footsteps sound quiet in the buzzing hall, and eventually, Cassandra disappears into Josephine's office.

Varric stays quiet for a second, and then asks, “Do you know something?”

Cole almost starts to shake his head, stopping midway. His gaze slips to the paper. The spirit stays motionless until he pulls out a small, crumpled paper from his pocket, setting it gently in front of the blond.

It seems to be a note, and reads:

_'I'm sorry I left. I'll return soon. Please keep our conversation last night a secret.  
\- Lorsen'_

"What conversation?" Varric questions, raising an eyebrow. He knows that Lorsen shares knowledge with Cole, and probably many personal stories, but to be 'missing' with a cryptic, odd note only left behind.. The blond starts to wonder if perhaps Cole knows more than he is letting on. “You know that he left. He left last night?”

Cole shakes his head, gaze wavering between the paper and Varric. "Yes.." he admits, despite his earlier disapproval.

“Ah, great..” Varric leans back in his chair, setting his quill down beside his small ink jar. He groans inwardly, wondering just how they are going to tell the Seeker that Lorsen has managed to teach Cole to lie.

And they said the young spirit could not be taught.

Lorsen is getting an earful when he comes back.

The spirit gazes apologetically at the dwarf, or, at least, as apologetic as he can be. He is still working through his emotions with his newfound humanity. “He's.. planting a tree,” he murmurs, tracing his fingers against the smooth, wooden table, “He said I could say that. ' _I'm planting a tree'_.”

“He's planting..–“ Varric stops himself once he starts to recall certain elven tradtions.

_Oh._

“Shit,” Varric swears, gaze dropping to the paper before him. He remembers Lorsen wears a ring on his finger, a delicate, silver little thing that looks just like any other.

And it would have been, if Lorsen had not been caught on multiple occasions gazing at it and smiling like a love-struck youth – the Inquisitor also happens to wear it on his left ring finger.

“He was crying,” Cole comments quietly, “He didn't want me to take the pain away.” He sounds a bit confused – his job _is_ to help, after all – and his blue eyes narrow slightly at the feeling.

“.. yeah, kid. The only thing you can do for him, is.. just be there for him, okay?”

* * *

 

“Where are you sending him?”

The voice causes Lorsen to jump and tense in shock. He spins around to meet Cole's clear eyes, and cannot help but breathe a sigh of relief; if Cassandra or someone else had caught him sneaking back into Skyhold.. “You're.. referring to Elion?” he asks, earning a small nod. “I'm.. I'm going to.. send him back to my clan. They will have a proper funeral for him.”

They are standing just inside the small tower that lies just in front of the drawbridge, where the scouts or templars sometimes mind and man the controls.

The Inquisitor looks tired, and is covered in mud, slush, and.. yellow dust?

The spirit is not quite sure what the yellow dust is, but it is sticking to Lorsen's clothing and armour, his hair, and the small pack on his back. 

Gazing at the other, Cole tilts his head slightly. Blue fixes to glossy grey, and the blond takes a tentative step forward, gently putting a hand on Lorsen's shoulder, not breaking eye contact, “You did a good thing. He's going to be happy.”

Lorsen blinks, eyes widening in surprise. He breathes out shakily, offering the young spirit a weak smile. His shoulders relax, features shifting to that of relief. “I.. think so, too, Cole. Thank you,” he whispers, tears welling in his eyes, “I feel better now, since I've kept my promise..”

The blond returns the smile with a small one of his own, though he does not remove his hand.

Sighing quietly, Lorsen gently rubs his eyes, wiping the tears away. His eyes are rimmed red once more, nose pink. “I've decided,” he declares, smile turning confident, yet visibly pained, “Once Corypheus is defeated.. I'm going to leave the Inquisition. I want to be with my clan.”

“You're going back home,” Cole says simply, not judging nor disapproving.

“Yes. I plan on doing what I can to aid them, and.. I'll plant a meadow in Elion's memory. That was one of his favourite places..”

Cole gazes evenly at the Inquisitor, and then pulls away, pointing upward, “Do you want to look at the stars? Shining, flickering, _you always loved to watch them_..”

* * *

_Two Years Later_

“Erm.. serah?”

Turning slightly, the mage finds himself gazing at a young human man donned in Leliana's scout attire. Stiffening, Lorsen only gazes at the brunet, hands tightening on his silver staff.

“Serah, I was asked to deliver this personally.. You _are_ Lorsen Lavellan?” The brunet pulls a small card out of his pocket, along with a handful of crushed blue flowers. He offers the elf a sheepish, nervous smile, probably regretting putting the flowers in such a vulnerable place. His hand shakes as he holds them out, and he flinches when Lorsen takes them from his hand, having expected some sort of reprimand.

He earns none.

Lorsen does not even have to look over the flowers to discern what they are – he already knows who sent them to him – and instead focuses on the small, neat cursive on the card.

“ _We need your help. Please come back_ ”.

The whiette bites back a laugh, and only shakes his head, lifting his head to look at the young man before him. “Please inform Leliana that I will be returning to Skyhold as soon as I can,” he says, earning a salute.

The brunet starts to turn around –

“.. – and please give a message for me. ' _Thank you_ ',” Lorsen says, earning the scout's attention once more.

“Y-yes, serah! Who is the message for?”

“A friend. A blond young man who goes by 'Cole'. Tell him thank you for the flowers.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is pre-Trespasser DLC. I've yet to get it, so I'm not sure what happens exactly if the Inquisitor leaves the Inquisition in the hands of the others.. So this is written from how I imagine it will be.


End file.
